


A study in intimacy

by ylc



Series: Fake relationship AU [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:21:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylc/pseuds/ylc
Summary: The wedding night.A companion ficlet to “I promise I won’t fall in love” but there’s no need to have read the first part, since this is my version of a PWP (except, of course, it’s not very smutty at all).





	A study in intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I have no self control whatsoever. So of course I did not stick to my “promise” of taking a break and also my boss hasn’t given me any more work so… it’s all his fault, really.  
> Well, my boss’ and my wonderful readers’, of course. Some of you expressed an interest in a series of ficlets for this verse (that is yet to be properly named, btw, suggestions are always welcome) and well, I figured, why not?  
> This particular shot might grow into a bigger one (hence the title) with not very plotty, somewhat smutty ficlets. I’m not making any promises though, so I shall leave it marked as finished.  
> And, if you haven’t read the original fic… well, I suppose this still makes enough sense :P But if you’d like to check it out, please do ;)  
> Now, without further ado, enjoy!

There’s something terribly nice about just being like this, lying next to each other, skin to skin, no urge to do anything other than be together, listening to each other’s heartbeat.

It’s also probably terribly sentimental, but in the privacy of his own mind, Mycroft can’t bring himself to care.

He never imagined it’d be like this, truth to be told. In his imagination, intimacy was nothing but a pure carnal act, he never truly considered the  _ afterwards.  _ Foreplay was all good and well, since it served a purpose, it lead  _ somewhere.  _ But afterwards? What was the point of contemplating that, particularly when he assumed the aftermath would be tinted with regrets and the urge to flee the premises as fast as possible?

“You okay?” Gregory asks sleepily, nuzzling his jaw gently, eyes half closed and Mycroft looks down at him, a small smile on his lips.

“Wonderful,” he replies honestly, running his fingers through his companion’s short hair, marveling at how soft it feels, allowing himself to enjoy the moment for what it is: yes, it’s the culmination of all the dreams and fantasies that have plagued him for over three years, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the beginning of a new life.

* * *

 

_ One hour ago. _

 

Kissing is, indeed, a most enjoyable activity.

Mycroft’s experience on the subject is severely limited, never having understood the appeal of it. It’s messy and unhygienic, a mating habit that humankind picked eons ago that serves no purpose whatsoever.

It was an useful distraction when undercover, he discovered soon after taking his job, but he always hated it. It was… bothersome and so something to be avoided whenever he could. He had heard some of the poor unfortunate souls who had kissed him describe the act as kissing an icicle, no warmth or passion in it.

Mycroft always told himself he didn’t mind those comments. He did not, after all, wanted to kiss said companions.

But--

And then he had met Gregory Lestrade. There’s no denying the pull he felt towards the other man from the moment they met and he suddenly found himself fantasizing about kissing the man, although he didn’t really understand why. Kissing Gregory couldn’t be terribly different from kissing literally any other person in the world and yet Mycroft found he  _ wanted.  _ He wanted to do it with an aching fierceness, the sense of longing filling him so strong that it left him breathless more often than not.

He had thought it would never happen. And when it happened, he had thought it’d never be for real, never anything other than a pretense or a drunken mistake. And yet here he is, lying in bed with his  _ husband,  _ being kissed within every inch of his life, with all the love and tenderness in the world.

It leaves him breathless in a whole different way.

“Are you alright?” Gregory asks, pulling away briefly so he can gaze into his eyes. Mycroft realizes he’s shaking and yet he nods, because he’s fine, better than fine, but-- “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Mycroft replies breathlessly. “I just… I never understood the appeal of this.”

Gregory arches an eyebrow, mildly amused. “Kissing?” he asks playfully, leaning down for another kiss. Mycroft smiles against his companion’s lips, nodding. “You seemed to like it well enough two nights ago.”

“Just because it was you the one kissing me,” Mycroft replies, between kisses. “I told you before I really like that.”

Gregory chuckles, continuing to press kisses down Mycroft’s neck. “I got a little over enthusiastic,” Gregory murmurs, licking the spot where Mycroft knows there’s a rather prominent lovebite, making him shiver. “Have I apologized for that already?”

“No need,” Mycroft replies huskily. “I rather like it.”

“Do you?” his companion asks, sucking on the skin lightly and Mycroft can’t help the almost inhuman moan that escapes him. “It’s not proper,” Gregory continues, proceeding to undo the top button of Mycroft’s shirt. “What will people say?”

“I couldn’t care less,” Mycroft replies, back arching as his partner’s fingers continue working on undoing his buttons, fingertips dancing over the bared skin, touch soft and fleeting, enticing but  _ not enough _ .

Gregory hums, pulling away just enough to shrug off Mycroft’s shirt, encouraging him to half sit. “Still, it’s probably better to keep them where people won’t see them. I don’t think either of us can stand any more teasing.”

Mycroft nods, figuring that’s true enough. He runs his fingers through Gregory’s hair, chuckling at the soft purring noise he makes, before shyly letting his hands travel down his partner’s chest. “Why are you still wearing a shirt?” he asks and he’s rather proud of how his voice remains steady, even if his hands are shaking a little.

Gregory chuckles, taking his hands in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Well, you haven’t made any attempts to remove it,” he says playfully, waggling his eyebrows and Mycroft rolls his eyes goodnaturedly before proceeding to undo his companion's buttons.

For a while, there are no more words exchanged, both happy to simply undress each other and explore the newfound flesh. It’s a heady feeling, to finally get to undress this wonderful man he’s been in love with for so long and who he never believed would return his feelings. It makes Mycroft both terribly excited and it scares the hell out of him: they’ve talked, of course and he thinks they’re finally on the same page now, but errors could still be made and those errors could be beyond costly. 

Now is not, naturally, the time to be considering such things though.

“What do you want?” Gregory asks softly, nuzzling the underside of his jaw, voice soft and gentle and yet too loud in the too quiet room, startling him by its suddenness and it occurs Mycroft that he has no idea what he wants. In his imagination, there was never time or room for words or negotiations, every action following a well written script that didn’t involve hesitation or nerves, with his partner knowing exactly what to do without Mycroft having to say a word.

Of course, real life doesn’t work like that and judging by Gregory’s expectant look, he’ll have to say something. He wants-- he wants--

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly, biting his lip nervously. It’s a silly answer, he knows-- if nothing else, he should be able to provide some general lines of what he’d like to try. But to be completely honest, he’s too overwhelmed with the simple notion of intimacy to think too much of any peculiarities. He’s a little terrified, he notices and more than a bit unsure and he doesn’t-- it’s not--

“Breath, love,” Gregory whispers softly, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s alright if you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything,” he assures him, kissing his lips chastely, just a small fleeting peck. “We can wait.”

Yeah, Mycroft supposes they can, but it doesn’t mean he wants to. He’s just-- “I don’t know what I want,” he murmurs, taking a deep breath. “I’m just-- this wasn’t part of the script I usually imagined.”

Gregory arches an eyebrow, mildly amused and Mycroft blushes furiously, realizing what he has just said. “Imagined it often, did you?” his husband asks with a smirk and Mycroft attempts to glare, but his mighty blush diminishes the effect of his dark glare. “Well, in the spirit of total honesty,” Greg says, leaning down, his lips now against Mycroft’s ear. “So did I.”

The words send a special kind of thrill down Mycroft’s spine. Knowing he’s wanted, that he’s been desired… well, it’s not something he honestly thought it was reasonable of him to expect.

“Show me,” he says breathlessly, earning himself a raised eyebrow and he blushes some more, but he tells himself to soldier on. Gregory’s smile is fond, not mocking at all, full of love and affection. “Show me what you used to imagine.”

It’s Gregory’s turn to blush hiding his face in Mycroft’s neck, letting out of soft groan. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that, love,” he murmurs, his breath warm against Mycroft’s neck. “I don’t think my poor heart can take it.”

Mycroft hums thoughtfully, enjoying just the feeling of being like his, bodies pressed close together, their arousal evident but not quite pressing. “I didn’t think it’d be like this,” he confesses softly, his fingers tracing iddle circles over his partner’s back. “So slow and… affectionate. I thought-- I thought it’d be a matter of fulfilling a physical need, rather than… whatever we’re doing right now.”

“Ah,” Gregory whispers, nodding. “Well, sometimes I imagined that too,” he admits, with the slightest trust of his hips which sends a pleasurable shiver down Mycroft’s spine. “Hard and fast against a wall was a favorite of mine.”

Mycroft groans, pushing his hips upwards, searching for friction. “Now who’s heart is going to give up?” he protests, half jokingly and Gregory chuckles, his lips lazily traveling down Mycroft’s throat.

“But I used to think about this too,” Gregory continues, after a few moments of rubbing together, gentle, with not real purpose, just enjoying the sensation. “Slow and tender, taking you apart bit by bit. Showing you how much I loved you… god, I’ve loved you for so long…”

“You could have said something,” Mycroft protests, although there’s a voice in the back of his head informing him  _ now is not the time. _

“Really? We’re going to have that conversation  _ again _ ? Now?” Gregory says, pulling away with a light smirk on his lips. Gregory’s tone is fond, amused and full of affection and then he leans down once more, kissing Mycroft slowly once again.

“I suppose we can discuss it later,” Mycroft acknowledges, once they pull away for air. “I’m quite enjoying what we’re currently doing. It’s… nice.”

“I should hope it’s more than nice,” his companion replies teasingly, his kisses now traveling even more southward, over Mycroft’s abdomen, feather light and fleeting but full of purpose and Mycroft can’t help the delighted shiver that runs down his spine as the rest of his body tenses in anticipation.

“It’s a comment on your skills the fact that I can’t think of better words to express what this is, dear,” he murmurs, trying not to squirm as Gregory kisses his hipbone, sucking on the skin just the slightest bit. “I’m normally very eloquent.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gregory says, looking up at him, his chin resting on Mycroft’s abdomen, fingers tracing lazy circles over his hips. “Let’s see how long it takes to render you completely speechless, huh?”

Well. It’s not like it’d be polite to say no, really.

And Mycroft has never been one to back down from a challenge anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> So, thoughts anyone?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I do hope the last part doesn’t feel terribly rushed. I bet you can tell when my self consciousness got the best of me :P Writing anything remotely smutty makes me horribly nervous and also blush like crazy so… bad combination, really.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought?
> 
>  
> 
> Also, may I remind you I’m participating on this year’s Fandom Trumps Hate auction? Here’s the [link](https://fth2019offerings.dreamwidth.org/86759.html) to my auction, if you’re interested ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
